Bad World
by Khapitan
Summary: [HIATUS] Have you ever had the feeling that theres something fundamentally wrong with the universe? Well, there is." A tale of Rose, Daleks, the Time War, and the Doctor. Its dark in places, and there is Doctor/hurt, but also bravery, friendship and adventure.
1. Prologue

Okay... here we go.  
Much thanks to Laura, who is my collaborative of this project - you take my words and add a layer of goodness :)

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**Bad World  
Prologue**

Rose pressed her back into the hard, wooden crate and screwed her eyes shut, trying desperately to control her heavy breathing. They were coming… she knew they were. But whether they would find her in the storm, or just wander straight past… how could she know?

The wind was picking up again, sending a shiver up the woman's spine. Rose took a shuddered gulp of icy air and tried to push her sodden hair out of her face. But the freezing rain being pummeled into the side of her head sent her blond hair whipping back into her eyes. Rose gritted her teeth against the cold and wondered if she should take a risk and peek over the top of the crates. She couldn't hear them, but even now, after all this time, she was still unsure of how sharp their hearing was... what if they knew exactly where she was? And if they caught her…

Thunder rolled across empty, black skies, screaming out to the grey world cowering beneath its wrath. For a split second, Rose's world was alive with searing white lines, and her eyes flew open as the oil bins and crates seemed to twitch and jump in the light. Then she was plummeted into darkness once more.

Above the gale of wind and onslaught of rain, the rapid pounding of Rose's heart seemed to drown out her senses. She tried to shuffle further back into the crates as fear threatened to take over. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen a bedraggled creature, bambi eyed and pale, almost swallowed up by the shadows that surrounded her. They would have seen her press herself back against the crates as the lighting roared above, as though longing for them to swallow her up in her fear. But, they would have also seen her raise a trembling hand to her chest and squeeze it around the breast pocket of her coat… they would have seen her eyes grow cold, and fierce, and her jaw clench in steely determination.

They would have seen Rose Tyler in all her fortitude, in all her power… just as the Doctor had always seen her.

The lightning crackled again, but this time Rose did not blink. Pulling her hair once more from her face, she shifted her stiff body onto her knees, and cautiously peered over the crates. She squinted, but saw only blackness. Using her numb hand to shelter her face, she sniffed and stared into the gloom, trying to pick out something… anything that could send her a ray of hope, a chance of escape.

But even as she stared, a cold, sickening feeling began sliding itself over her. She _could _see something nestled within the dark of the night. Once she had cleared her eyes of the rain, she became aware of a small, but incredibly bright blue light hovering in the blackness. Watching her.

'Oh… god.'

A giant booming sound erupted above Rose's head and a thin slice of lighting cut its way powerfully through the rain. Once again, the scene in front of her was illuminated with a blinding radiance, and the demonic, hulking shape of a Dalek seared its way into her vision.

And for a split second, as the world was lit around them, Rose looked into the eyes of an oppressor and it looked back…

'EXTERMIN–!'

Rose twisted around and flung herself sideways as the crate she had been hiding behind exploded in a whirlwind of wooden shards. She landed heavily; the breath knocked out of her, and scrabbled within the large black bag that had previously nestled by her side. From the other side of the crates came the unmistakable noise of the Dalek as it glided serenely towards her, never slowing, never faltering, and drawing painstakingly closer.

With her hand buried in the bag, Rose struggled to her feet and let out a gasping sob in fear and frustration. Trying desperately to stay calm, Rose took a heaving breath just as her searching fingers located the cold lump of elongated metal from within the bag's folds. Her shaking fingers gripped it, and with a new grim look etched into her face, she flailed her body round in the mud so that she lay on her back, blinking in the onslaught of rain that ravished her face.

Even above the constant drumming of raindrops, the sound of the approaching Dalek pounded into Rose's eardrums. It jarred to a stop above her, blotting out the rain and spotlighting her face with its glowing blue elevation pads. For a perfect moment, everything was still in the world.

Rose snarled.

Just as the bulky shape above began to bare down upon her, she brought her arms around, forcing the muzzle of the metal weapon up. The heavy golden colour glinted in the luminous blue light of the Dalek, looking briefly pretty and out of place. But Rose's deadened fingers had already found the underbelly of the device, and with a final wrench of her hand, she thrust her finger hard against the switch and send a torrent of white light shooting upwards.

The beam screamed through the frozen air and cannoned into the underside of the Dalek. Sparks leaped off the impaired casing and the monster let out a lurching, bellowing noise as the power of the weapon sliced through it.

Rose hugged the golden cylinder to her chest and rolled sideways as the creature above began to smoke and wail. With hardly a pause to catch her breath, Rose rolled again, skidding over the icy gravel in an attempt to distance herself from the burning Dalek. The blue light at the end of its eye stalk fizzed, and was extinguished as power was lost, and with a sickening crunch, the creature fell through the air and smacked against the hard ground.

Grabbing the black bag and staggering to her feet, Rose collapsed against the wire mesh of the fence that was keeping her prisoner, and watched as the Dalek was cooked alive in its own metal casing, screaming its death cry into the night.

She took several steadying breaths as the noises died away, and wondered how many others had heard their sentry boil and wail. From a two second estimate, Rose figured no less than seven… Not even her gun, let alone herself, would outlast that many Daleks. Once again, her hand involuntarily moved to clutch at her breast pocket, as though this simple movement gave her strength.

Then she was blinded by a scolding white light.

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There ye go, please let me know what you make of it! 


	2. Chapter 1

_Here we go... part 2!  
And celebrate people, we've got Mickey and Jake! _

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**Bad World  
Chapter 1**

'Rose!'

The sound of her name ripped through the night, and she blinked in the white light, as though the voice had partially jolted her back to her senses. Slowly, she raised a shaking hand to cover her eyes from the brightness, and squinted, making out a dark, rectangular shape. A shape that was to her very unlikely, very familiar, and most definitely _not _a Dalek.

'Rose!' her name echoed out again.

And then everything crystallized. Rose could feel the freezing air and stinging rain whip round her face. She could see past the blinding light and make out the image of a battered white van. She could hear her own name being called out across the enclosure…

And it was Mickey's voice.

'Rose, stop standing there like a lemming and get over here!'

There was a grinding sound, and the van shifted in the wet soil. The headlights suddenly sucked off of Rose, and spilled over the rest of the gravel yard. The beam illuminated the crates that she had hid behind, and the squat building beyond… from where a Dalek was slowly emerging.

Pausing in the doorway, it twitched its eyestalk as it took in the scene before it. But before the Dalek could act, a violent torrent of mottled light hit it in the face. The creature inside bellowed out its pain as what looked like tendrils of electricity flickered all over its casing. Then the hollow blue glow of its eye died away, and all that was left was the pitted and lifeless shell.

Rose turned slowly to look at the van. Through the dusty front window she could see Jake, grim faced and clutching at the wheel. The seat next to him was empty, but the window was open and as Rose's gaze traveled upwards she saw Mickey, kneeling on the roof of the van. He was gripping a heavy looking gun on his shoulder and, as she watched, he lowered it and shouted at her again.

'You coming, or what!?' he pulled on a lever to reload the gun. 'How many more are there?'

Glancing behind her at the two lifeless Daleks, Rose shook her head and called back to him. 'I think they're all dead! I only saw three to start with!'

Mickey shaded his eyes from the rain. 'Where's the other one, then?!'

Rose's reply was lost in the wind, but he saw her point to the building behind and nodded. She must have taken care of it earlier, and if there were only three then the building was probably a low security storage area rather than a high security camp; they shouldn't have any more trouble. Then again… there could be twenty more on the way right now.

He pulled a face and slid down the side of the van. Pausing at the open window, he passed the heavy gun to Jake and leaned in.

'See, I told you we'd find her,' he said.

Jake rolled his eyes and handed Mickey a pair of wire cutters from the glove box. Mickey flashed him a grin, though both knew that he had been nearly hysterical with worry for Rose, and made his way over to the wire mesh of the fence.

From within the enclosure, Rose had moved towards the first Dalek, the one that had died in a ball of flame, the one she had killed. Heedless to Mickey's shouts behind her, she stared down at it and tried to make herself feel… something. Before, it had been so easy to feel fear, or hate, or even sympathy towards them, but now she only felt a cold emptiness as she looked at the lifeless object.

Mickey appeared at her shoulder and followed her gaze.

'Nice,' he said bleakly. He pocketed the wire cutters, gave Rose a curious glance, and turned back to the fence, feigning nonchalance. 'You coming then?'

Rose mentally shook herself and tore her gaze away from the creature. It was then that she realized she was still clutching the object in her breast pocket, and she quickly lowered her hand. She wasn't sure if Mickey had noticed… he probably hadn't, she tried to reassure herself.

Sighing, she shifted her grip on the black canvas bag and followed Mickey through the hole in the fence. It wasn't long before the chocking sound of the van started up again as it turned around and headed away from the now deserted encampment.

Rose sat silently opposite Mickey in the back of the jolting van as it wound and picked its way over the makeshift road.

If you could even call it a road.

Which, in Rose's opinion, you could not.

The path of flattened and beaten down soil was only created for the transportation of slaves, and only maintained because of the thousands of feet that trampled it down everyday. Rose hated the road, its whole singular purpose was so that the 'Supreme Ones' could watch over their little human pets.

It had been named 'Long Road' by Pete since it stretched all the way from Cardiff to Edinburgh. Jackie, on the other hand, had named it 'A bloody stupid place to go snooping about at, especially since its swarming with bleedin Daleks, and I don't care if you manage to save a few slaves, you're still risking your own neck and I don't know what I'd do if you never came home.' But of course, Jackie's version was a bit long to remember, let alone say.

Rose stared out at it. Four hundred and four miles of slave trodden earth, stretching on for what seemed like forever and littered every one in a while with a small detention centre where the slaves were kept for the night during traveling. It was disgraceful. But at least at this time of the night it would be rare to run into more than a couple of Daleks on patrol. And the weapons that Mickey and Jake had with them could easily take care of a few Daleks.

Still… they shouldn't even be here.

The giant metal gun that Mickey had hauled up onto the roof of the van was designed from the remains of a Dalek. It had made sense when Pete had dragged the scrap metal and bits of fizzing wiring into the house; after all, only a Dalek would have the power to stop a Dalek.

So they had fashioned guns, and once they had the knowledge, weapons were built in all sizes. The small slender tube that Rose carried with her was her own design, and she was quite attached to it.

As the van continued its staggered path along Long Road, Mickey watched Rose's blank and passive face. She was barely lit in the gloom of the van so he could make out only the outline of her features and dark eyes staring blankly past him… or through him.

'You gonna thank us then?'

There was no response other than the purring of the van.

'I mean, we came all this way…' he ventured again.

Silence.

Mickey sighed and lent forwards towards Rose, his arms on his knees. 'You could have died you know,' he said, accusingly.

Rose raised her eyes to meet his.

'I knew what I was doing,' she said.

'Yeah.'

'I did,' she retorted, almost savagely, her eyes picking him out in the gloom. 'You didn't have to come running after me.'

Mickey blinked, surprised. 'What you talking about?' he said. Now it was Rose's turn to sigh as she surveyed the figure in front of her.

'What was the point of following me?' she asked. 'I didn't ask you to, in fact that's the reason why I didn't tell anyone where I was going, so why did you?'

'You're joking right?'

Rose said nothing more. Flashing him a scowl, she shifted herself on the hard seat and stared out of the window of the van. Mickey followed her gaze, wondering what on earth she could actually hope to see in the darkness. Then he realized she wasn't really interested at what lay beyond the window, she just didn't want to talk to him.

He clenched his jaw and sighed inwardly. Of all the times for Rose to turn as stubborn as her mother! She'd always been a bit intractable, always been able to silence Mickey with just a look, but now it was becoming almost impossible to have a decent conversation with her. Ever since the Daleks had come she'd become more reclusive and less willing to be one of the 'family'. Jackie thought it was because she was hiding something, but then Jackie was probably the most mistrustful person in the universe.

'Rose,' Mickey tried again, 'you were joking? I mean, asking why we came after you…?'

Rose didn't turn to face him but drew her knees into her chest and hugged them tightly. From that position she looked vulnerable and naive, an image that was completely shattered by the following tone of voice and stinging words.

'For god's sake Mickey, no I wasn't joking. I didn't want you coming after me; I didn't want anyone coming after me. I knew what I was doing and I was fine doing it, happy now?'

Mickey opened and shut his mouth; it was funny to think how much she had changed yet hadn't really changed at all... Well, he wasn't having any of that! One thing that Rose Tyler always forgot was that he had changed as well.

'Firstly,' he retorted, counting off on his fingers, 'no, I'm not happy. Secondly, I never said you didn't know what you were doin'. It's obvious you knew what you were doin', otherwise you wouldn't have been doin' it! And thirdly, don't be such an idiot!' Rose looked sharply at him, like she had been stung. 'There's seven of us, Rose,' he continued, 'seven, against a whole world! Just us, that's it, there's no one else… of course we're gonna come running after you! Your part of the family ain't you? You might not act it, but you are!'

'I didn't ask you to come!' Rose snapped at him

'I'm not the one in the wrong here!' Mickey shot back. 'You're the one that wandered off without telling us!' His brow furrowed in anxiety and he lowered his voice, 'you could have said something, Jackie's been going spare…'

Rose stared at him. For a brief moment, she wondered when Mickey had learned to argue like that. The things he said made sense to her in an intellectual way, but it wasn't going to change her mind. She had her own private reasons for going to the camp alone, and more than anything she hadn't wanted the family to get involved. If they did, it would just mean more shouting, arguments, tears, and fall outs. Not something that would help matters.

'You're the idiot, Mickey,' she said, her voice softening under his worried gaze. 'I didn't want anyone to come 'cause I knew how dangerous it would be… I didn't want anyone to get hurt.'

It didn't matter now anyway. Every one back home clearly knew she'd gone 'wandering off somewhere' as Pete would put it. They'd all be up in arms, and Jackie would probably be shrieking the house down. But Rose was glad that it at least was Mickey who had come to find her, rather than anyone else.

'What were you trying to do?'

She shifted. 'There was something I wanted…' she let her voice drift off, hoping, pointlessly, that no more questions would be asked.

Mickey looked at her. 'And?'

'And… it was in the encampment so–'

'So you went off on your own and nearly got yourself killed trying to get it,' Mickey finished for her. Rose shut her mouth and clenched her jaw, as though frustrated that he couldn't understand her point of view. Afraid that she might suddenly loose her temper again, Mickey hurriedly changed the subject.

'So it looks like you got what you wanted then,' he indicated the black bag at her feet, 'what is it?'

Rose stared at the bag for a confused moment, and then shrugged and kicked it over to him. As the van bumped and grinded its way along, Mickey picked up the bag and peered inside.

The bag was mostly filled by a heavy blanket (Rose obviously thought she would be away for a few days), and included the metal cylinder that was her weapon. But underneath, nestled between the folds of the cloth, was a small, battered book.

Furrowing his brow, Mickey opened the book and thumbed through the pages. They were full of unidentifiable marks and scribbles that arced their way over each page and seemed to follow no ascertainable pattern. Mickey flicked his way through the entire book to make sure he hadn't missed anything, and then looked up at Rose again, confusion etched onto his face.

'You know what it is?'

For a second time, she shrugged, 'I've seen something like it before.'

Mickey opened his mouth to ask where, but he suddenly realized that Rose was subconsciously clutching at her coat again. While she was leaning forward and seemingly taking an interest in the book, her right hand was gripping the breast pocket with such force that her knuckles were turning white.

Taking a deep breath, Mickey shut the book and stuffed it back in the bag. 'What were you really looking for?' he asked, leaning back and surveying her.

Rose looked up at him and, for a second, seemed about to feign ignorance. But then she caught the serious look in his eyes and let her poker face drop, heaving a deep sigh.

'You can't tell anyone,' she said.

'That depends,' said Mickey, 'what it is?'

Rose shook her head and looked up at him, her eyes pleading. It was staggering how quickly her whole face could change from a harsh coldness, to something almost childlike.

'Fine,' Mickey said.

'Promise,' Rose demanded.

'Alright! I promise,' he said, and realized that he meant it.

Rose reached up and unzipped the pocket. But before she could produce the treasure nestled within, the van pulled to a halt and a hollering woman's voice shot through the open window.

'Rose Tyler! You get your sweet behind out here, right now!

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_There. You like?? You no like?? Let me know anyway _


	3. Chapter 2

_Part 2_

_Introducing new characters and plot unraveling! Hooray! _

_Oh, and thanks to anyone who has read, commentated, or added this to their alerts or favorites... it does mean a lot to me! And thanks to my muse (MY TURTELS!)  
_

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Chapter 2

Pete leant against a small stone wall that divided the farmyard driveway from the green wilderness that lay beyond. He quite liked the farmyard. No one else did, but it was the perfect place: a pretty spot, out of the way of danger, and nice and quiet.

Well… sometimes it was.

'A BOOK?!?'

Pete suppressed as sigh as he watched Jackie march up and down and berate their only daughter. It was a sadly familiar sight. Of course, he wasn't going to kid himself into believing that she didn't deserve it, she'd been missing for nearly two days and had given no warning about her sudden departure, but… it was still hard not to feel sorry for anyone who ended up on the wrong end of Jackie Tyler.

'A tiny, pointless, stupid, _useless_ book?!' Rose clutched the black, leather bound object to her and gazed sullenly at her mother. 'What was the point of running off just for a bleedin book?!' Jackie ranted. 'You could have died! I've been going spare, Rose, do you hear me? Spare! Been pulling my hair out over you and all!' she made a snatch for the book and opened a page at random. 'I mean look at this! It doesn't even make any sense!' She stared aggressively at the strange symbols on the page, 'what are all these then? No, don't bother to answer! Honestly, I was so worried; I thought you were dead for sure! But no, you were just out _book_hunting!'

Rose snatched the book back and stuffed it into her pocket. 'It's important,' she stated, 'I'm not stupid mum, I wouldn't wander off-'

'Well it bleedin looked that way to me! I dunno what you thought you were playing at-' and then she was off on another rant again.

Beside Pete, Mickey shifted uncomfortably and Jake folded his arms, watching the argument sullenly. They weren't enjoying this any more than he was. Sometimes Pete wondered how he had ever ended up in this situation... hiding away in this little farmyard hovel with the most volatile woman on the face of the Earth, not to mention Rose – who had an annoying habit of not listening to him.

'Where'd you say she was?' he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

Mickey leaned closer and whispered back, not taking his eyes off Rose: 'she was in that brick camp about five hours away, the same one where we found the Dalek shell and the body ages ago.'

Pete let out a hiss of air from between his teeth, it was pretty far and he was impressed. He'd never admit it of course. 'Why the book?' he wondered to himself, and glanced at Mickey, searching for an explanation. But Mickey only shrugged.

'She told me she was lookin for something, but all she had was that book,' he said, and wondered if he should mention the mystery inside Rose's pocket. However, his mind was quickly changed when Rose suddenly began a furious counter attack against her mother. She was so desperate to hide whatever it was… he couldn't possibly give her away.

All three of them suddenly became aware of the squat shape of Selby approaching. He awkwardly sidled up to the opposite side of Pete and settled back against the wall, watching the scene curiously.

'She's back then,' Selby commented to Pete. Pete nodded, not taking his eyes off the shouting couple. Poor Selby, he thought, this is only his seventh day here and he's already experienced three Tyler sized rows.

'Look,' he said, 'this might go on for a while, and it'll definitely turn out ugly, you might wanna creep off for a bit, try and steer clear of it.'

Selby gave one shoulder a half hearted shrug of dismissal. 'Hello Mickey, Jake,' he said, accompanying each of their names with a sharp nod of his round head. Jake nodded back, but Mickey seemed to ignore him, still staring at Rose. There was something in his face that made Pete wonder if there was more to Rose's expedition… why all that way for a book?

'You gonna try and stop it?' Selby's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Pete straightened up from the wall and licked his lips: 'I'm gonna go and stick my neck right into it,' he decided.

Selby shrugged again. 'Your funeral,' he said to Pete's back, clearly thinking of the last time there had been a Jackie-sided row.

Pete drew closer to the shouting couple, and stopped behind Jackie, wondering where to begin. It was hard to get a word in edgeways, but Pete was quite good at getting involved; where he went from there though… his problem seemed to be the actual part of the argument where you are supposed to argue, or rather, stop the arguing. That was the part where he tended to fail.

'I don't have to explain anything to you!'

'Yes you do! I'm your mother! And if you think-'

'Jacks!' Pete said. Jackie spun around to face him, her mouth still hanging open from her mid-rant. 'I think she's got the idea,' said Pete soothingly.

'Oh, don't you start,' Jackie snapped, now rounding her fury over to him, 'always cracking hair brained plans to scout the land and look for scrap for your stupid guns! You're the one that sends them out there in the first place! You're putting ideas into their heads, Pete Tyler. Letting them all go wandering off,' she waved behind her at Rose and nodded her head vehemently at Mickey and Jake. 'No wonder I've got these bags under my eyes, it's worrying about them all the time, 'cos lord knows you don't!'

'You know that's not true, Jacks' Pete said pleadingly, 'we do need the scrap… and we have to get food somewhere, and it is useful to know the lay of the land-'

'You're sending them to their deaths with your stupid reconnaissance missions!'

'Mum,' Rose interjected, 'what are we supposed to do? Just sit around waiting for everything to fix itself? We go out there for a reason! And yes, it's dangerous, but the information and supplies we come back with is helping us to survive. We need to survive, don't you see?'

'You can't talk missy, you nearly killed yourself over a stupid book!'

And then Rose did something completely unexpected. She turned and walked away. No hateful shouting, no callous remark, not even a sneering glance at them. It was so sudden and so unlike Rose that there was a stunned moment of silence as the others watched her retreating back.

And then the moment was broken by Jackie's echoing voice.

'Don't you dare leave while I'm talking to you, Rose!'

Rose spun round. 'I'll do what I like!' she hissed.

'Come back here!' Jackie shrieked to her retreating back, but Rose took no notice of her.

'Rose!' Jackie shouted.

'Rose!' she added, incase the message hadn't got across.

There was the distinctive slamming of several doors in the wake of Rose's temper, and then a silence settled itself smugly over the driveway.

'Well…' said Pete, trying to break the monotonous quiet, 'that went well.'

Jackie turned to look at him. 'And you can shut up and all,' she said scathingly.

Rose sat on her bed and bit her lip. Sometimes she hated her mother, wanted to scream at her! Well, that's actually what she usually did do. But something had felt different about today. Something had pushed Rose far beyond her normal limits and she just couldn't take anymore.

Was it going to be like this for the rest of her life? It couldn't be… She tried to convince herself that something would change, but she had enough sense to be realistic about things, how could it possibly get better? It wasn't as if there was a man in shining armor that would come flying in to save the day.

So why did she feel that there should be?

Rose pulled the book out of her pocket again and opened a page at random. Her eyes met with line upon line of strange circles, with tiny intricate patterns nestled in each one. They were alien; she was sure of that… there was no doubt that aliens were out there, the Daleks were the blatant proof of that. But she didn't think that the book was Dalek.

There was something beautiful about the shapes, and Daleks couldn't do beauty. The Daleks were just hunks of metal with slimy things inside: Inhuman, inhumane, and utterly horrific.

There was a light knock on the door and Rose looked up, flinging the book to one side. The knock came again, and she noted the slight pattern of pauses and taps before she pulled herself up and strode to the door. Once there, she flung it open and found Jake standing in front of her. She wasn't surprised to see him, but it was one fewer person than she had expected.

'Where's Mickey?' she demanded.

'Feeding the chickens,' said Jake. He looked at her, still in her filthy clothes. 'Can I come in or what?'

Rose blinked, and then shuffled backwards into the room inviting Jake to follow her in with a look. Once he was in, she shut the door behind him and flopped onto the bed again. 'I thought chickens was mum's job,' she said.

Jake shrugged. 'Pete thought she'd be too upset to do anything.'

Rose groaned and rolled her eyes. 'She hasn't fed the chickens a day since we got them! And she says we don't help around the house!'

Jake grinned briefly. 'Remember when that speckled one chased her round the yard?'

Rose let out a sudden laugh. 'Oh god, she was screaming the house down!' she lay backwards on the bed and clutched her stomach as she laughed. It felt extraordinarily good. Rose was sure she didn't do it often enough. But then a sudden thought hit her and she sat up again.

'You didn't say anything to Pete did you?' she said quickly.

Jake's smile faded from his face. 'About the mystery of Rose Tyler's pocket?' he asked, and then shook his head. 'No.' Rose's face flooded with relief. 'I didn't mention it… whatever it is,' he added, looking pointedly at her jacket.

Rose took in his gaze and nodded in understanding. 'Wait till Mickey gets here,' she said, and bit her lip again. Jake nodded, and settled back against the wall, staring into nothingness.

The silence of the room deepened.

'Jake,' said Rose eventually. 'Can I ask you something?' He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in anticipation. Rose took a deep breath and her words came out in a rush. 'Have you ever heard the word… Gallifreyan?'

It felt like almost a relief to say it, as if it had been pressing in on her chest, almost suffocating her. How could one word do that? Rose briefly wondered. But she was more intent on searching Jake's face for some hint of recognition.

Jake frowned. 'You what?'

'Gallifreyan,' said Rose again, and as Jake stared at her blankly, she gave the smallest of shudders and licked her lips.

'What is it?' asked Jake. Rose looked up at him. 'Say it again.'

'Gallifreyan,' her voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper.

'What's it mean?'

'You dunno what it is?'

'No,' Jake frowned again and leant back against the wall. 'What is it?' he repeated.

Rose suddenly sighed, unable to hide the disappointment from her face. 'Nothing,' she gave a half hearted wave of her hand. 'I've… it's familiar, that's all.'

'Well, I've never heard of it,' Jake said, watching Rose carefully. 'It sounds like nonsense to me, gibberish. There isn't a word like it.' He paused, still considering Rose 'Why,' he finally said, 'where've you heard it before?'

Rose sighed and picked up the book from beside her. Its small, boring cover gave nothing away as to the incomprehensible scrawlings inside, but it felt oddly comforting and… Rose blinked… oddly warm.

Selby sat in the kitchen and thumbed unhappily through the book he was reading. It was Watership Down and he hated it. In a lifetime that was as bleak as his, the last thing he wanted to hear about was the trials and tribulations of a bunch of fluffy bunnies.

He sighed. But… since there were only five things to read in the farm and one was half missing and another was a women's beauty magazine about the hair styles of the new millennium… Selby had thought that the bunny book would probably be his best bet.

From some nearby room of the farmhouse that he had learned was Jackie and Pete's bedroom, Selby could make out the shrieking voice of Jackie. Selby had decided that he didn't like Jackie. He would never tell anyone this, but in his opinion she was the prime example of how to make a bad situation ten times worse, and who honestly wanted that?

After trying for a full ten minutes to immerse himself into a chapter that explored deeply into the rabbits extensive belief system, Selby gave up and slid the book across the table, just as Pete came in.

'Watership Down,' he noted, sitting opposite Selby. 'Good choice,'

'Only choice,' said Selby. 'You read it?'

Pete shrugged. 'Must be about nine times already,' he said, and Selby noted with grim satisfaction that Pete didn't seem too happy about this. He decided not to ask about Jackie, and besides, he didn't really want to hear about it, so instead he said: 'Where'd you find chickens anyway?'

Pete rubbed his chin. 'Jake brought a hen and a cock with him when he turned up here. Rest is history.'

Selby frowned. 'When he turned up? When was that?'

'A year ago I suppose.'

'A year?' Again, Selby frowned and looked at Pete incredulously. 'How long has you little family of rebels been here?'

'Two years,' came the prompt reply. 'Two years last August.'

Selby shook his head. 'But the Daleks arrived here three years ago, so you were slaves or something right? Before you escaped and came here?'

'No,' said Pete. He seemed almost edgy about Selby's constant questioning, what more did the man want to know? What did it matter? He moved his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. 'We were never slaves to the Daleks, they never caught us. We hid from them for a year, always on the move, never staying anywhere for more than two days and then we found this place.'

'Wait,' said Selby, 'you can't have just hidden from the Daleks, that's stupid. Maybe you can now since loads have gone off in their big spaceships and there aren't as many, but during the first invasion… they were everywhere. You couldn't have hidden from them.'

'We did,' said Pete.

'How?'

And then Pete said exactly what Selby had expected him to. 'Rose.' He sighed, and mimicked Pete by rubbing his neck. 'Go on then,' he said. 'What is it with your daughter? What's so different about her? And there is something different isn't there? I can tell. It's the way she looks at you, like she doesn't quite believe that you're there.'

Pete nodded. Selby had hit the nail on the head there… sometimes he wondered if Rose even believed that she was really here at all. There was definitely something different about Rose Tyler, and from the persistent look on Selby's face, Pete knew he was going to have to tell him everything.

* * *

_Yes? No? Be nice to hear what you think. Thankee!_

* * *


	4. Chapter 3

_Hello to all!_

_Firstly... sorry its a bit late, I had real trouble with this chapter since its one of those 'lets explain everything' parts of the story. But after some kind and encouraging words from my dear muse Laura, I think its safe enough to show it to the world!_

_Secondly, thanks again to everyone who has commented or rated this wee story of mine, it really does mean a lot to me!_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Pete leaned back in his chair and frowned. Selby was watching him intently; expecting an explanation, but the problem he had now was… the first train of thought had been he would tell Selby everything, make him understand why Rose was… it seemed so complicated and muddled in his head but now he realized that… how could he even begin to…? There wasn't anything to tell!

In the cramped kitchen, Selby watched Pete, unaware of the inner battle taking place. 'Start at the beginning?' he suggested after another minute of tortured silence.

Coming back to his senses, Pete glanced up at him. 'There isn't really a beginning,' he said. 'I… it seems so complicated in my mind, but really it's not anything,' he added lamely.

Selby frowned. Either Pete really didn't know what he was talking about or… or he didn't want him to know. But Selby wanted to know. He liked things to make sense, and out of everything that was wrong with the world, Rose made sense the least. So, in a Selby like fashion, he decided to be blunt.

'Why does Rose sometimes seem like she's looking through you? Why is it that, when you catch her looking at you, you think that maybe she doesn't really believe that you're there? How did you survive a year wandering about on this godforsaken planet without getting caught by Daleks?'

Pete scowled at Selby. All the confusion in his head, it wasn't down to facts or actions. It was down to feelings. Just that nagging sense that Rose didn't quite fit in, that nagging sense that there was more to all this than a planetary invasion, the sense that something was fundamentally missing from life… the sense that he shouldn't be here. How can you explain feelings?

'Have you ever had Déjà vu?' he eventually asked.

'Déjà vu? The feeling that you've already experienced something.' Selby said.

'Yeah, okay,' said Pete. 'Now take that feeling and multiply it by a hundred.'

'Why?'

'That's how Rose described it.'

'Described what?'

But Pete didn't seem to be listening to him. 'Imagine doing something, seeing something, and you _swear_… you _know_ that you've done it before. It's something you're just so certain about. And it's more than just a five second feeling that the world's repeated, it goes deep down through you, right through your bones.'

Pete looked up at Selby.

'When the Daleks attacked, we were having dinner. Me, Jackie, Rose and Mickey had come round too. And they just… knew it all,' he said at last.

Selby frowned, confused. 'The Daleks?'

'No! Rose, Mickey and Jacks.'

'Knew what?'

'Everything!' said Pete. 'We saw them. Well, actually we heard them first, shooting at things…people… Then we saw them, flying past, all over London, shrieking, and shooting, and doing god knows what, and Rose and Mickey and Jackie just… _stared_ at them. They didn't say anything, just stared. An' I was yelling at them to move, or run, or something. I was trying to ring people, shouting down the phone asking what the hell the things were, and Rose just turned around and told me.'

'Told you?'

Pete frowned. 'She just said, "They're Daleks. They're going to kill us all. Exterminate us." And she said it calmly! So matter of fact! But… she looked so scared.'

'But how did she know?'

'Déjà vu.'

Selby scoffed. 'That's stupid! There's no way she could have known what they were. No way. No one had ever seen them before… No one on the face of the planet knew what they were! You trying to tell me Rose had seen a Dalek before?'

Pete shook his head and spoke very carefully. 'Rose had never seen a Dalek before in her life. None of them had.'

'Then she couldn't have just known!'

'But she did,' said Pete quietly. Selby stared and him and shook his head.

'It's impossible,' he said. 'You can't remember things that you've never seen.'

'Well they did, all right?'

Selby rubbed his eyes. 'She recognized the Daleks,' he mused to himself. 'Never seen them before, but just… _knew_ about them…' he glanced up at Pete disbelievingly, 'Mickey and Jackie too?'

Pete pulled a face. 'No… not really… Once Rose had said it they recognized the name, and they recognized the image. They knew that the things over London were Daleks, but nothing else. It was only Rose who knew the name off the top of her head like that. It was only Rose who knew more.'

'Okay,' said Selby, 'So Rose knew things that she didn't know how she knew and that no one else knew.' And in the privacy of his mind, he added,_nut case_.

Pete nodded. 'It was all down to Rose in the end,' he said. 'We'd be dead without her. When the Daleks came she… she just went all glassy eyed and started yelling at us, giving orders and stuff. And she just_knew _how to avoid them… knew how they moved and how they thought… and how to fight them.

'For a year after the Daleks took over, we just wandered around… always hiding, always afraid of them,' he sighed and rose from the table. 'We walked all the way from London to here. It seemed like a good a place as any to hide. Jake found us shortly after.'

'Then you started rescuing people, right? One big happy family?' said Selby.

Pete shrugged and moved towards the door. 'We try,' he said.

'But,' said Selby, trying once more to get a grip on what he had been told. 'You survived the Daleks because Rose just _knew _how to…' it sounded so ridiculous, 'and how did Jake survive?'

From the doorway, Pete considered this and gave a small smile.

'He remembered the Daleks as well.'

Selby blinked. Jake too? That made even less sense! At least Rose, Jackie and Mickey lived together; they were all sort of connected so it made sense if they all thought they recognized the Daleks… but Jake didn't have anything to do with them! He hadn't even met them before the Daleks came!

'So how did he…?' Selby began.

'Maybe that's why he found us,' interjected Pete. 'Like he was drawn to us because he and the others all share these memories… Do you believe in fate?'

'It's hard to believe in anything anymore.'

Pete shrugged dismissively. 'Well there you go,' he said. 'There's not really anything else I can tell you, there's nothing more to it. But don't go asking Rose about it.'

'You don't want me to?'

'No, it's not that, you just won't get anything from her. And the more you ask, the less she'll like you. Best to leave it alone.'

The bed made a whining creak as Mickey flumped down and stared at the object in his hand. Rose sat by him and watched him carefully, occasionally glancing up at Jake to try and read their expressions.

'All right…' Mickey said at last. 'I knew that, what ever it was, it had to be small enough to put in your pocket, but…' he frowned and tossed it at Jake to examine. 'I really wasn't expecting that,' he said.

Rose sighed. 'You dunno what it is?'

'No,' said Mickey, and Jake shook his head, silently examining the object. 'Why,' Mickey added, suddenly suspicious, 'do _you_ know what it is?'

'No.'

'You're a terrible liar.'

Rose glowered at him.

'Well you are!' said Mickey. 'Don't try to fool me Rose Tyler, I know you. You kept clutching at that thing when you thought no one was lookin', its important to you isn't it?'

'No!' a pause. 'Yes…'

Jake handed it back to her. 'What is it?' he asked.

'I dunno, I really don't,' said Rose truthfully. 'I found it in the camp when I was looking for other stuff, it was just lying there.'

'What other stuff?'

Rose pressed her lips together, seeming to consider her answer, before she gave a half hearted shrug. 'About a week ago, I heard Dalek scouts talking about some new stuff that had been stored there.'

Jake raised his eyebrows. 'So you just went off to get it? Sounds a bloody stupid thing to do.'

Rose nodded distractedly. It did sound stupid.

'I know,' she said, 'but it wasn't just that, the way they were talking about this stuff it sounded important... they said it was,' and here she took a deep breath, 'Gallifreyan artifacts.'

And there it was again.

That… odd sensation in the back of the mind.

Mickey blinked as he felt it settle into place, like an unpleasant bout of déjà vu. He had heard that word before… it felt so familiar to him…

Gallifreyan.

He glanced over at Rose, and saw her faded expression.

'That was that word you said before,' said Jake.

Rose nodded mutely and Mickey knew that she must have felt it to. When she heard that word for the first time, she must have felt the same mind numbing sensation as he… that simple word that just sounded so _right_ and so _natural_… But, and Mickey was positive about this, he had never, _never_, heard that word in his life. So how come it felt so mind-bogglingly familiar to him?

'Gallifreyan…' murmured Jake. He rolled the word around his mouth as he grew accustomed to it. 'I dunno, Rose, it still seems a lot to put yourself through just because you heard a familiar word.'

Rose took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to draw strength. If anyone had been watching closely, they would have seen her hand give an involuntary twitch, as though it longed to clasp at a certain pocket for comfort and assurance.

'It wasn't just familiar,' she tried to explain, 'it was… it was,' she waved her hands vaguely as she tried to recount the sensation she had felt, 'right,' she finished lamely.

Jake frowned.

'Like déjà vu,' supplied Mickey.

Rose suddenly twisted her head to look round at him, a burning look in her eyes. 'You felt it.' she stated.

Mickey nodded, a wistful look on his face. 'Yeah… like I've heard it before, but I know I never have. It feels like a memory that I forgot… like really bad déjà vu or something. It feels…'

'Right,' finished Rose. Mickey nodded.

Jake looked at them both and nodded slowly in understanding. He understood in a vague way, it was the same feeling he had felt when he had seen the Daleks for the first time… that was something he shared with Rose and Mickey, but not this word.

'All right,' he said, 'so yer heard about these Gallifreyan artifacts and went off to find them,' Rose nodded. 'And what were they?' he asked.

'There were loads of old boxes and crates, hundreds of 'em. I opened a few and they were full of weird machines and wires and stuff.'

'Useful stuff?' asked Mickey.

'Nope. Stuff I'd never seen before,' Rose paused and thought about it, 'it almost looked alien, at least some of it did.'

'Like Dalek stuff?'

'No. Maybe from a different planet… maybe one the Daleks took over.'

'This Gallifreyan place?'

'Maybe.'

Jake shrugged one shoulder and joined Mickey and Rose on the bed. Together, they all looked at the little object from another world.

'It was just sat on top of one of the boxes,' Rose said, 'I mean, it looked like nothing–'

'Still does.'

'I would have walked right past it if it hadn't….'

A thick silence suddenly filled the room as Rose trailed off, staring at the thing in her hands. Mickey and Jake exchanged glances.

'What?' asked Mickey cautiously.

Very slowly, Rose looked up at them and spoke her next words with care, as though she hardly believed it herself. 'It said my name.'

Another silence.

'You what?'

'My name, it… it just said it.'

'It spoke?'

'No!'

Mickey screwed up his forehead and looked baffled. 'What then?'

'Look,' said Rose. She opened the little leather wallet and flashed Mickey and Jake the blank paper that was secured inside.

'Yeah, we saw that.'

'Well it said my name!'

'What, in writing?'

'Yes!'

'Oh…'

As though he was handling some precious gem, Mickey took the wallet from Rose and stared down at the perfectly white paper. 'It doesn't say anything on it now though,' he said and passed it back to Rose.

'I know,' she said. 'But I swear to you Mickey, it did. It said "Rose" on it and then it sort of faded away…' she looked imploringly up at him. 'What was I supposed to do? Just leave it? It spoke to me!'

'It's a piece of paper in a little wallet thingy,' said Jake doubtfully.

'It's alien.'

'You _think_ its alien.'

Mickey grabbed the wallet and peered down at it, twisting it in his hands to look at the back of it. 'What if it's dangerous?' he said suddenly. 'If it said your name then maybe its, like, psychic or somethin'… It could be reading your mind!'

Rose stared at him. 'Don't be stupid,' she said hesitantly. Something about what he was saying seemed… sort of right, but she knew in her heart that whatever the strange thing was, it was important. It was special, and she wanted it.

'Give it back,' she said quickly and snatched the wallet from Mickey's grasp.

And then the world distorted.

For a fraction of a second that seemed to spread out over eons, Rose Tyler was lost… lost somewhere that was so incomprehensibly far away from home, it ached... somewhere twisted, and sharp, with echoing voices and shouting. For a fraction of a second, Rose Tyler heard the screams of the long forgotten.

* * *

_Whaddya think?? _


	5. Chapter 4

_Sorry its been such a long time!! Life has been rather taxing..._

_Ah well! Now we have the return of Bad World! And in this new, slightly longer, rather angst ridden chapter, we also have the introduction of the Doctor!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

There was… not darkness… the world through her eyes existed and she could feel the continuous pulsations of life it generated, but she couldn't see anything beyond a deep, hazy grey. But there was something there… maybe she couldn't see the light, but she could feel it radiating off her like steam.

And she could feel other things too… swift, _powerful_ things which were so far beyond her comprehension, that it took her breath away. In fact, they were so sudden and shocking that it took a few moments before she realized what it was she was actually feeling…

In the sullen, swirling gloom, Rose blinked and clutched at her heart, drawing in shuddering gasps as she tried to hold back the tears.

She was so… _lost_… so far away from anything that she knew, and it _hurt so badly_. It throbbed through her whole being like a giant, cavernous wound. Rose tried to smother her racking sobs. Never before had she been so forcibly wrenched away from her home, so isolated against it. Never before had she felt so alone.

And then the world of grey around her began to stir. Billowing and twisting shapes flitted across her vision, so fast and strong that they stung her senses. A deafening roar suddenly echoed in her ears, like the sound of ancient planets collapsing. And there were screams… cries of agony, loss and anger buried amongst the torrent of sound.

Rose strained her ears, trying to pick something comprehendible out of the shouting.

And there it was.

A female voice speaking over and over, whispering words of despair and loss that somehow carried easily over the roars of others. Rose swallowed hard, she'd lost something, or maybe someone…it was ripping her apart inside and she could _feel _it.

But it was the sound that carried over all this, which filtered through the twisting world around her that made her ache. A sound which wrenched at her heart with such force, she thought she was going to pass out… it carried over the woman's words, engulfing them and engulfing Rose. And perhaps the most frightening thing of all was that it sounded so _familiar_ to her.

Sudden forks of bright, blue light thundered down from the impossible emptiness above and buried themselves in to her senses. They seared white-hot, and left painful smoldering scars across her vision. Blinking rapidly in the smoggy haze that surrounded her, Rose raised a trembling hand and tried to shield her face.

But these were not her sights and sounds to extinguish. This was not her pain. It belonged to someone else, someone far away and forgotten, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself from witnessing it. She was so far from home, so far from all that she loved and cared about, and all she could do was _stand there_. All she could do was try to numb her senses and smother her ears from the screams, and moaning… and the heart wrenching cries of a faintly familiar man…

All that Rose Tyler could do was stand there, isolated and alone, and listen to the screams of the long forgotten…

And then she blinked.

And everything that had passed in front of her eyes, everything that had passed through her, _inside of her_ in that fraction of a second, was forgotten in an instant.

'All _right_,' said Mickey, raising his hands in mock surrender, 'I was gonna give it back to you anyway!'

He bent down and picked up the leather wallet from the floor where it had fallen, offering it to Rose with an apologetic look on his face. Rose glowered at Mickey and made a snatch for the wallet, but he suddenly pulled it out of her reach again.

'Mickey!' Rose said exasperatedly.

She looked into his eyes, sparkling with mischief, and suddenly burst out laughing.

'Hey! Now there's the Rose Tyler I remember!' Mickey quipped. Grinning like a loon, he let Rose take the wallet from him and then suddenly enveloped her in a giant bear hug.

Rose made a small huffing noise as she was lifted off the ground and all the air was crushed out of her. She grinned sheepishly, her face smothered by his jacket. She'd missed this. It had been a long time since she had just let go… but what with constant raids for food and her recent obsession with unknown artifacts, she'd hardly had any times for _sleep_, let alone simply laughing with her friends.

From behind the hugging pair, Jake smiled quietly to himself, and watched the show of affection in silence. Rose's arms, now wrapped tightly around Mickey, gave him a perfect view of the little leather wallet and clean white paper inside. Hardly sure of why he was doing it, he deftly slipped the wallet out of her hand and examined it again.

'Mickey!' Rose gasped gleefully, 'put me down!'

'Nah! You love it!'

'Put me down!'

Staring at the little rectangle of white, Jake's face slowly molded into a deep frown. Very carefully, he rubbed his thumb over the paper, as though trying to remove a smudge or piece of dirt.

Rose's feet hit the floor as Mickey finally let her down, and she laughed breathlessly, bending down to pick up the strange book that she had brought with her.

'So, where's the book come in all this?' asked Mickey peering over her shoulder. 'Don't tell me _that_ said your name as well.'

'No,' said Rose, regarding the faded, battered front cover. 'I just brought it along 'coz I thought I'd seem really silly coming back with just a little wallet thing.'

'You seemed really silly coming back with just the book,' said Mickey.

'Yeah…' said Rose. 'But I bet I didn't seem _as _silly, right?'

She subjected Mickey to a particularly evil little grin, and then turned to Jake expecting to be offered the wallet. But Jake did no such thing. Instead he just stared at it, and then looked blandly up at Rose.

'It's talking to yeh again,' he said warily.

Rose's smile faltered on her face.

'What?'

Jake shook his head in disbelief and finally offered the wallet to Rose. When she took it, she almost could swear that she felt a strange tingling sensation traveling up her arm. Mickey leaned over her shoulder and, like Jake, his brow furrowed in complete confusion.

'How's it doin' that then?' he breathed.

Rose said nothing, but stared down at the little black letters that kept re-writing themselves across the gleaming white paper.

"_Rose Tyler…"_

* * *

Somewhere that was almost an infinite number of miles away from the nearest human life, and almost a billion years before anything even resembling monkeys beginning to evolve, a small, rather shabby looking police box hung in the air.

Without ever quite doing anything, it began to slowly disappear. Of course, that's what it looked like to the naked eye, but for the TARDIS it was much more complex as it refigured its entire molecular structure and plunged itself, and its Time Lord, into the crackling, spinning time vortex.

Inside the box, with only the constant lulling noise of the ship as company, the Doctor stood with his hands buried deep in his pockets. The piece of floor directly under his gaze wasn't particularly interesting, but that didn't really matter to him as it wasn't really the floor he was looking at.

If someone had been with him, they would have been watching the stationary Time Lord with a mixture of concern and apprehension. If they'd have watched his face for long enough, they would have sworn that there was something moving behind his petrified eyes. If they had asked him what was wrong, they would have been completely ignored. And it didn't even bare thinking about what he would have done if they had tried to move him.

But there was no one with him. He was alone in the TARDIS.

There was something... dark and unsettling that was stirring in the back of his mind, something unfamiliar that he had never experienced before. Or... he had, but it was so long ago, so lost and forgotten... And it was wrong.

It was very, very wrong.

The Doctor stared at the metal grating under his feet as the thoughts and sensations prowled over his mind. They were so distant he couldn't even make them out. It was like trying to count needles in a haystack... a haystack without any needles. In a fog.

After three hours, the TARDIS let out a low growl. Or maybe it didn't, the Doctor couldn't really tell anymore. Without moving his body, he slowly raised his head and let his dark eyes travel across the control room.

_I can feel it. I can feel -_

'Shhh,' he murmured to the space around him.  
Somehow his voice, barely audible, echoed around the room. And this time the TARDIS _definitely_ growled back at him, which, if the Doctor had been in a stable state of mind, he would have been seriously worried about. TARDISes do not growl.

The Doctor frowned, pinching his eyes together to try and block out unnecessary senses. Hidden inside his trouser pocket, his hand was gripping so hard onto his psychic paper that his knuckles had turned white.

Why now? The Doctor slowly shook his head, as though trying to clear smoke from his vision. He didn't want to feel this, didn't want to see this. He'd spent so long trying to banish it from his mind why would it come back now?

Hardly daring to breathe, he slowly brought his hand out of his pocket and lifted it to his face. The leather wallet was griped in between his fingers and he knew, he _knew_, that it was the link. So, now all had to do was…Taking a deep breath, the Doctor snapped open his eyes and stared down at the blank paper…

Someone was there.

And without warning, a name popped into his subconscious. He wasn't aware of it, but it was there, and it was calling out. But the thing the Doctor was focused on more was the sensation that he was looking into a television screen as he stared down at the paper.

'Oh... very bad...' he said.

And then his world turned white.

A hollow, bellowing noise suddenly erupted from the depths of the TARDIS, and was only matched by the heart-wrenching cry of the Doctor. The Time Lord reeled backwards, and dropped the psychic paper, his head suddenly burning and spinning. The console right above the heart of the TARDIS suddenly exploded into a flower of sharp sparks and the ship lurched sideways.

The Doctor, with his hands pressed into his eyes to try and stop the pain, was flung sideways and landed heavily on the floor, all the breath knocked out of him.

The things he seen, the echoes of the memories, were still flashing across his vision. The burning, the fire, the swirling smoke and reels of light… the cries, no, the _screams_ of the long forgotten, and his own voice carrying over the top.

_I could feel it, and it was burning. The fog lifted, and the haystack was a pile of needles all along__…_

The recollections still stung, even now, but since the psychic paper was no longer in his clutches, they were already beginning to fade. Taking a gasping breath, the Doctor staggered upright and clung onto the console… It was still shaking violently. There was something else wrong.

'It's never one thing,' the Doctor hissed.

And, just as rapidly, everything became deadly still.

Still breathing raggedly, the Doctor straightened up and backed away from the console, looking at it doubtfully. His gaze briefly flickered to the innocent looking leather wallet that lay on the floor where it had fallen.

Yes, it could pick up psychic messages sometimes… you had to be good, and that was good by the Doctor's standards. In the sudden stillness of the room, he walked towards the paper and bent down to pick it up.

His fingers stopped an inch from the wallet.

It shouldn't have been showing him his own memories. That was ridiculous. It was ludicrous, impossible! Something was happening to affect the paper… the Doctor frowned and straightened up, rubbing his temple. It was prickling uncomfortably but he put it to the back of his mind and focused on the TARDIS.

'What's going on, ey?' he murmured to the ship. 'What was all that about?'

The TARDIS cloister bell gave a loud, unmitigated clang and the doors of the ship suddenly flung themselves open. The shuddering, swirling lights of the vortex rushed in to the console room… The Doctor stared at it, eyes growing wider and the prickling of his head intensifying. He felt a strange cold chill traveling down his spine and nestling somewhere deep in his gut.

He must have seen the vortex a hundred times, a million, maybe more than that. It was as normal to him as his own shoes. He knew the patterning of it, the electric blue and ruby red colouring… he could almost read it like a book he'd traveled in it so often.

The Doctor's head suddenly exploded again in a fresh wave of nauseating pain. The Time Lord almost fell backwards onto the console, slapping a hand to his temple. Why did he feel so… _confused_? It was like someone had suddenly taken every moment of his life and thrown them into a blender.

Blinking through watering eyes, the Doctor lurched over to the open door of the TARDIS. _What was going on? _Leaning heavily on the door frame and gritting his teeth, he stared out at the time vortex.

It definitely shouldn't be moving like that, the Doctor thought desperately, or making that hideous noise… And it definitely shouldn't be that fizzing, sickly, utterly _wrong _yellow/green colour

For a few moments, the Doctor gazed at it, lost in the unfamiliar, churning eddies… and then the TARDIS let out a whining shriek and began to shake uncontrollably again. The Doctor gasped as the pain and confusion built once more, and slammed the wooden doors shut. Trying desperately to keep his balance, he staggered to the consol pounded his fist onto it.

'Take me to Cardiff!' The Ship moaned pitifully and the Doctor gritted his teeth again. 'Now!'

* * *

There were some things in life that were irritating, and Martha had decided very early on that the constant hum of the neon lights above her were _very irritating_. Maybe it was the stone floor, or the sheer size of the room, but the neon lights were somehow hugely exaggerated in the Cardiff hub cloakroom.

Trying to push it to the back of her mind, she sighed and fumbled in her locker for her phone, Tish was supposed to be calling her soon.

'I get a nice view from here,' said a voice behind her.

With her head still buried in her locker, Martha groaned. The voice was very smooth, very familiar, and very American.

'Where have you been?' she said coolly, turning round and straightening up. Jack was sat on one of the cloakroom benches, leaning back and regarding Martha with a coy smile on his face. It was almost impossible to not feel fond of him but she kept her vigilance. He was supposed to have met her at least two hours ago.

'Following Owen about,' he said, his bright blue eyes trailing puppy-like after Martha as she went to get her coat. 'Y'know he tried to drown himself?'

Martha paused, her hand hovering by her locker. 'Is he all right?' she asked eventually. Jack studied her and then gave a half hearted shrug.

'He's already dead, Martha,' he said firmly.

She stared at him, frowning, and bit her lip thoughtfully. Give him time, Jack had said and Jack knew Owen much more than she did, she'd only been there a few days.

'Come on,' Jack said, standing up and stretching, 'lets get food if that's what you want.'

'It's normal,' said Martha, pulling on her coat. 'Sometimes it's nice to do normal things. It reminds you there's a normal world out there.'

'Hey, as long as there's Weevils crawling around and I can still wake up after being shot in the head, things'll never be normal.'

They made their way up the dark passages to the giant circular door that lead outside the hub. Why they bothered to get annoying sounding lights in the cloakroom and hardly any lights anywhere else, Martha didn't even think about. It was just one of those things. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, that she didn't notice that Jack had stopped dead in his tracks.

'Jack?'

He turned his face to look at her. 'Hear it?'

Martha looked around, confused. 'Hear what-' and then she paused, and her gaze slowly traveled up to the ceiling.

'The TARDIS…' she said slowly, her face molding into a picture of disbelief.

Jack nodded. 'My office,' he said, following Martha's gaze and glancing upwards. 'Right above us.'

'What's he doing here?' she said incredulously.

Jack tore his gaze away from the ceiling and studied Martha. After a moments pause he gave an exaggerated shrug and set off down the corridor.

'Let's go!'

* * *

_Whaddya think?_


	6. Chapter 5

_Well, sorry its been a while. I've got exams coming up next week eek!_

_This chapter is... well, complete and utter Doctor/hurt/angst, plus some general confusion and concern from Martha and Jack. I hope I haven't over done it at all. Meh, give it a read and let me know!_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Jack pounded along the walkway of the hub, with Martha following close behind him. As he ran, fumbling with doors and inwardly cursing the fact that some had to be pushed, while others pulled, a wide smile plastered itself onto his face. He liked seeing the Doctor, no, scrap that, he _loved _seeing the Doctor. And as he skidded into his office he beamed at the sight of the TARDIS.

'Oh, my god,' said Martha, peering over Jack's shoulder, 'it _really_ is him.'

But the happiness felt by Jack, and the overall curiosity felt by both as to why the Doctor had suddenly appeared, did not last long. From inside the blue box came the muffled, yet unmistakable sound of the cloister bell, tolling out a relentless warning. Smoke began pouring out from the gaps in the door and, to Jack and Martha, it looked almost as if the ship was shuddering and quaking.

'What's–?'

The TARDIS doors flew open, filling Jack's office with deafening clangs, and the Doctor staggered out of the smoke, clutching his head. For a second he seemed disorientated and unsure of where he was, but then he looked up, and his eyes locked into theirs.

'Computer!' he said suddenly.

'What?'

'Where's the computer, Jack!?'

Utterly baffled, Jack pointed to his desk and the Doctor rushed over to it, fumbling to pull out his sonic screwdriver as he threw himself into Jack's chair. With the smoke from the TARDIS seeping over their feet, Jack and Martha exchanged a look. But the urgency of the Doctor's voice outweighed their confusion, and they hurried to his side.

'What's going on?' asked Martha.

But the Doctor didn't answer her. Instead, he was staring intently at the screen, screwdriver whirring in his hand, as pages and pages of words and files flittered past, far too fast for their vision.

'Doctor?' Martha said.

In a sudden flash of frustration, the Doctor thumped his fist into the keyboard and then smacked his hand against his head again, letting off almost a growl of pain and anger.

'Doctor?' said Jack.

'What!' he cried, spinning round to face him. 'What is it!?'

Jack clenched his jaw at the challenge. 'Just… tell us what's going on,' he said, trying to sound soothing.

For a few seconds the Doctor stared, eyes flitting between Jack and Martha, and then he sagged and buried his head in his hands. It pounded every time he tried to concentrate and it was affecting his other senses. The office around him and the faces of his friends swam in and out of focus, and the thudding bell of his distressed ship seemed to be screaming in his ears.

The confusion he felt before was still there too, still straining against the intelligence and logic of his brain. He had to try so hard… had to use so much energy in just remembering the two people in front of him. And they wouldn't be able to feel it would they? No… no of course not... He tried to focus again. If he screwed up his eyes tight enough, he could almost shut out the inner turmoil. There were more important things to think about, weren't there?

Were there? At the moment he wasn't so sure anymore.

'Doctor!'

With a huge amount of effort, he raised his head and looked straight into Jack's face. The man wanted answers. Silently, trying to ignore the whine of his beloved ship, the Doctor pointed vaguely at the computer screen. Instantly, both Jack and Martha peered at it.

'The Torchwood archives?' questioned Martha, shooting a sidelong glance at the Doctor.

'All our history, accounts, reports, members, deaths, everything,' said Jack. 'Recorded from the first week Torchwood was created, right up until a few hours ago.' He turned to look at the Doctor again, who was slowly rubbing his forehead and staring at the screen with a vacant look on his face. 'What about it?'

'Jack!' gasped Martha, 'look! All the words are… they're…'

Jack turned; confusion etched onto his face, he glanced down at the screen again. And then his eyes widened, and his mouth slowly dropped open. From right in front of his eyes, the Torchwood archives were disappearing. Reels and reams of words and files were vanishing even as he stared. Words were erased, and then rows, and then whole paragraphs… lost forever.

'What the hell is going on?'

'Computer virus?' suggested Martha. But even as Jack shook his head she knew it wasn't. Tosh would have picked up on something like that; their hugely advanced system would have flushed out an infection before it even presented a problem.

Both of their eyes traveled back to the Doctor. He had slumped further down in the chair, his pale face vacant, and his chest rising in sharp, shallow breaths. If his eyes hadn't been open and rooted so firmly and fearfully to the computer screen, you would have thought he was dead. Martha glanced back and Jack and the message between them clear: what ever the problem was, it was much worse than a simple virus.

Martha knelt down beside the Doctor and shook his arm.

'Doctor?'

He didn't respond.

Suddenly, from right behind her, the TARDIS let out and ear splitting scream, loud enough to shake the whole room. Jack and Martha instantly spun around to look at it, trying in vain to cover their ears from the noise. Through the open door, the console was just visible, fizzing and spitting red-hot sparks, and the bell rang out more sharply than ever.

The Doctor was on his feet in an instant, staring wildly around in confusion. Once again, his eyes focused on Jack and Martha and just for a second, just before the urgency of his voice set in, it almost seemed like he didn't know who they were.

'Get in the TARDIS!' he shouted.

'But–'

'Now!'

Without hesitation, Jack gripped onto Martha's arm and he pulled her into the ship after the Doctor. There wasn't even time to think, let alone argue back, before the Doctor had smashed a mallet into the console and the TARDIS had lunged out of time.

Once in the vortex things would make more sense… at least, that's what the Doctor had been trying to convince himself. But somewhere deep inside he knew he couldn't really run from it, it would always catch up. Jack and Martha were safe in the vortex, and the walls of the TARDIS would protect them. But not him. Not this time.

'Doctor, take me back!' snapped Martha. 'I don't want to go anywhere!'

'Not now!' hissed the Doctor, inwardly trying to fight back the panic he felt. Why couldn't he remember her name?

Martha was almost hysterical. 'Don't you dare take me anywhere! Go back!'

'Can't,' he croaked, trying to focus on the console.

'Why? What's going on!?'

But once again, he seemed to ignore her and in her desperation, she turned imploringly to Jack. He seemed to have a connection that she'd never shared with the Time Lord, and in this situation, he would be the best hope of sorting everything out.

Jack shook his head and approached the Doctor, almost hesitantly. When the Doctor had given the command, he'd reacted without a second thought, knowing that the Time Lord was doing what was best for them. But it wasn't as simple as that anymore.

'Doctor,' he said loudly, over the clamor of the bell, 'we didn't want to be taken away from the Hub… I didn't want to be taken away from my team, but if you just explain what's going on-'

'Nothings going on,' the Doctor hissed, 'everything's fine, everything's the way it always was, even if the way it always was wasn't always that way.'

Jack couldn't even begin to decipher the meaning behind his friend's words, so instead he said, 'is there an alien threat? Is the Earth in danger?'

'No.'

'Then what the hell-!' began Martha.

The Doctor spun around and pointed a finger threateningly at her. 'You shut up, you!' he snapped, and then turned back to the console just as the whole ship lurched sideways.

Jack and Martha were flung violently to the metal floor of the ship, as more angry sparks leapt up from the central column. Both passengers floundered on the floor as the ship tilted and shuddered alarmingly, and were therefore unaware of the Doctor pressing both palms into his eyes and groaning piteously.

By the time Jack had scrambled up, pulling Martha along with him, the Time Lord was back at the controls, flailing pointlessly at the buttons and switches.

'Doctor,' Jack tried again, 'if nothings happening to Earth, then why don't you take us back? We can sort out the TARDIS once we land and I can check up on my team…?'

The Doctor's reply was abrupt and blunt, and he didn't even look up:

'They're all gone.'

Jack blinked and took a step backwards, not fully registering what the Doctor had said, or the meaning behind it. Martha stepped forward from behind him, and began saying something to the Doctor, but the words seemed muffled and lost on Jack.

Gone?

Somewhere inside his mind, the part of Jack that was truly human, the part that would always cling on to the smallest ray hope, spoke up. Gone wasn't the same as dead. If they were dead, then the Doctor would have said… So, they were alive… and the Doctor was keeping him from them.

'What do you mean "they're all gone"?' Martha persisted.

The Doctor hissed between his teeth and fumbled with the console once more.

'Take me back,' Jack finally said. His voice was calm and quiet, but somehow it carried over the din of the ship. The Doctor ignored him.

'Doctor, take me back!' he said again.

'No.'

'Take me BACK!' Jack roared.

In a second, he rushed forward and grabbed the Doctor by both shoulders, spinning him violently around to face him. How could the Doctor not understand? How could he take him away from his team, his _life_, and tell him he couldn't see them again?

And then he stopped.

Because the look on the Doctor's face, was enough to explain everything.

The TARDIS shuddered and let out a piteous, creaking moan, but the urgency and panic that had radiated from it before was somehow more shallow, and distant. Still held tightly, unable to turn away from his friend, the Doctor finally met Jack's eyes.

'I've gone blind, Jack,' he whimpered.

His voice was so quiet that, for a second, Jack wasn't even sure he had said anything at all. He stared down at the Time Lord, appalled, but mostly confused, since he was positive that the Doctor was looking straight at him. Yes, he was _definitely_ looking at him, because his dark, hollow eyes were flitting backwards and forwards between Jack's own sharp, blue ones.

'I can't see the universe.'

'What-'

'Where's the universe gone, Jack?'

The time agent suddenly became aware of the Doctor's body, shaking beneath his grip. He sounded like a little child, lost and frightened.

'Doctor?' Jack said again, more urgently as the Time Lord closed his pain-filled eyes. But there was no response. Jack shot an alarmed look at Martha, who hadn't heard anything that had just been said.

'He says he can't see.'

'But… he was looking right at you!'

'I know, damn it!' Jack clenched his jaw and tried to sound calm. 'Something's wrong, Martha. The Doctor took us away for a reason.'

'But-'

'I don't _care_ what he said, something bad is happening. And right here, right now, inside the TARDIS, inside the void, is the only place we're safe.'

'Safe from what?' she whispered.

'I wish I knew.'

The Doctor suddenly tensed, arching his back and gritting his teeth as he let out a barely controlled cry of anguish. Martha instantly rushed forward, intercepting Jack from the Time Lord and trying to examine him. For an instant, Jack was almost glad she had stepped up her role as medic, but then confusion and panic etched itself on his face again as the Doctor tried to push Martha away.

'Don't,' he muttered thickly, 'I need to-'

There was a pause, and the TARDIS shuddered again. It was growing more frantic once more, the momentary lull in its confusion already passing.

'…do… something…' the Doctor finished.

'What?' asked Martha gently, trying to support the Doctor as best as she could. Realizing she needed help, Jack knelt down as well, and gripped the Doctor's other arm.

'I don't know.'

Over the top of his head, Martha and Jack exchanged a look of concern.

'We need to get him back to Torchwood,' said Martha firmly. 'I can help him there.'

Jack shook his head.

'The Doctor said they were gone.'

'And you believe him? In this state?'

With barely any hesitation, Jack nodded, and Martha's face fell.

'They… can't be dead…' she whispered.

'I didn't say dead, I just said gone!' the Doctor suddenly retorted. He tried to raise himself from the floor, but seemed unable to control his body and ended up sinking back to his knees again.

'Vanished, absent, missing, misplaced, _lost_…' he continued thickly, and he raised his weary head to look at them. 'They're gone, Jack,' he said quietly. His eyes flickered briefly to Martha and then returned to Jack's crystal, blue stare. 'I can't get them back. I can't save them.'

Jack's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. But he tried to push it aside and focus on the Doctor. For perhaps the first time since he'd arrived, he seemed to be making sense… he also seemed to be able to recognize them. Martha lent forward and stroked the Time Lords forehead soothingly. Perhaps she had noticed as well.

'Doctor,' she said again, 'what's wrong?'

The Doctor brushed her hand away absently, and blinked at the floor. He could feel it building up through his ship, building up through time itself, and about to explode at any moment. The final Snap.

And he was almost looking forward to it.

Things would be bad, very, very bad, he knew. He couldn't be certain to what extent he would suffer shock; he just had to hope that Jack and Martha would look after him. But at least after the Snap, he would stop existing in this hideous and pain-filled state of limbo. At least he might be able to think clearly for more than a minute.

'Have you ever had the feeling, that there's something fundamentally wrong with the universe?' he said at last. In the building pressure of the ship, his voice seemed strained and lost.

Martha stared incomprehensibly at him.

'No…'

'Well, there is.'

And then he went rigid as the TARDIS screamed in furious agony. Jack and Martha held him tight and cowered on the metal floor, as sparks and flames showered over them. As the ship lurched, and the vortex outside twisted into steely black, the Doctor gasped as everything he was, was suddenly wrenched out of his body. He was faintly aware of Martha screaming, and the turn of the ship, and of Jack shouting distant words, before the blackness swallowed him.

* * *

_Whaddya think?_


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